There are many people currently in my life whom I love dearly, but none more than my immediate family. After my father’s death, my mom, brother, sister and I counted on each other for everything, even though we were all in different cities throughout Pennsylvania. My family has always been close, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Sure, I was teased and made fun of as I grew up because I was the youngest, but we always had a good time. Because my brother was five years older than I was, he would babysit us when my parents went out on Friday nights. Amy, being the mastermind behind all of our stunts, proposed transforming our stairs into a huge sliding board using our twin mattresses. So, the three of us set it up, put on my mom’s pantyhose, and slid down the stairs. We had a blast. But, as usual, it was all fun and games until someone got hurt, and that someone was always me. I slid down one time and bounced up to hit the closet door at the bottom of the stairs—face first. After the medicinal bowl of ice cream, we folded one of the mattresses up so it protected the door, and we continued our play. Then we heard the car door outside. You have never seen three kids try to carry mattresses up the stairs so quickly. We got two up and went back for the third which was used to protect us from the door. We pulled it back, but it stayed in the “L” shape. Fortunately, the car door wasn’t my parents, because the panic stricken looks on our faces would have sunk us for sure. We bent it back into shape and it was fine, except for a kink right in the middle. Being the youngest, guess who got that one!
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